seasonal skylines
by januarylightsphere
Summary: [Iceland/Nyo!Hong Kong, High School AU]: Autumn has a million stories for a million worlds about a seasonal girl and a boy she loves.


**disclaimer: **you know the drill, you know the drill.

**notes:** high schoolaus, nyotalia, grammar problems, use of english name.

**\- **i keep Hong Kong her English name, because it's the name that I have the feeling Iceland will call her that.

\- Iceland's name is Emil. Nyo!Hong Kong's name is Lyra.

\- there's no Mr. Puffin, which is sad, really. I somehow forgot him.

\- nyo!hong kong has eyes like star and iceland has hair like snow and they got along well. Just imagine it.

**HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! **

* * *

_Your beauty shines and lights up the sky_  
_And you don't know it, do you?_

_-Taylor Swift, Firefly_

* * *

She lets her hair down when going to school this morning. The signs of autumn have started to appear, with cooler wind, bluer skies and fresher air. Her long hair sways ever so lightly in the wind. Lyra tries to cover her yawn with one hand, the other is smoothing her hair, tucking the yellow flower back in. Then she sits down and drops her head on her school bag, tries to get as much sleep as possible. That hope, sadly, is shattered by the toll of bell, and she mutters under her breath, something about fate hating her. She shoots a glare at the silver-haired boy sitting behind, but he merely shrugs in response.

Yesterday she still tied her hair up, and each time Emil happened to glance at her, he saw all neck and white creamy skin, dark brown hair almost glowed golden in the sunshine. "Yesterday was summer." He knew what she would say if he asked. It has become a habit, so strange and Lyra-like – ties her hair up in summer with violet orchids, lets her hair down in autumn with yellow ones, and they will be pink when she braids her hair in spring – it's Lyra, his best friend (actually, her name isn't just Lyra, because she's half-English and half-Chinese and there are too many ways to call her name, just like her seasonal appearance. But she's forever his friend Lyra, who was named after a star and certainly shines like one.)

* * *

The next day, she brings a box of scones to class. Emil has already prepared for it. Lyra isn't a bad cook, but she likes to make those scones as horrible as possible (how they can be still edible, Emil has no idea.). Every time someone points out that, all they get is a cold look and they all back away. Emil, the ever unfortunate one, has to eat them without uttering a complaint. And he will never, because he knows why she makes them.

("They told me he's lost in the sea." She told him, and it was almost surprising how her voice was so even when talking about her father. "Lost. Disappeared. A way of death. He likes to make me scones – " Lyra refuses to talk about him in past tense, even though it has been a long time and all Emil can remember about the man is his name. "He isn't good at expressing his feeling, and it's his way to tell me that he loves me." She put the black thing in her mouth and swallowed it.)

She brings them to the school library during the break, without the librarian's knowing, of course. They sit in an isolated corner, eating them. Emil keeps eating as long as Lyra keeps chewing them even though there's no taste in his mouth. If there is one thing that doesn't change with the season, it's that they will always sit in the corner of the library, where the sunlight isn't too much but bright enough for her to read. He definitely prefers listening to music to reading books, but he likes quiet places. The library just happens to be one of them, where he can close his eyes and enjoy the music with his player. And Lyra rarely talks too, all she does is reading and eating those scones. At times, he has to open one eye to make sure that she hasn't left yet, and closes his eyes upon seeing that she's still sitting there, absent-mindedly picks up a scone. Sometimes he doesn't fall asleep and sometimes he does, but she always wakes him up.

Therefore, it's strange to see only Hong Kong reading quietly in the library, some students even cast her a glance when they get their books. Emil is somewhere out there, in the schoolyard that is full of laughter and the sunlight is strong and bright. But for her, it isn't something new. Sometimes, Emil goes off somewhere for some days, some weeks and comes back as if nothing happened. He's dated and broken up with a few girls. Lyra is used to it, but this time, it's just different. She doesn't spend as much time in the library as usual. Closing her book and putting the scone box back in her bag, she glances down from the window to see Emil talk and smile about something with a girl. She looks at them longer than she's intended and sighs at herself.

* * *

The afternoon comes with rain. Lyra is waiting for Emil at the school gate. She usually goes to school by bus and likes to catch the early one if she gets up in time, and takes a nap upon taking her seat in the class. Someday she oversleeps and gets herself in trouble with the teacher for coming late. ("Just two minutes late, teacher." She insists, and when she tucks her hair behind her ear, the teacher lets her in.) After school, however, she always waits for Emil then they will go home together by bike. It's something he insists doing, because this time the bus station is always overcrowded and her flower will fall down if she's not careful. ("How can I find you in the crowd without it?") Lyra will sit silently as Emil rides his bike, hands tracing some weird patterns (she says she draws flowers) in the air as his back gets sweaty. Lyra looks at the sky, it's raining hard.

When Emil finds her, Lyra's hair has got wet a bit, especially the flower. He asks: "Why haven't you gone home yet?"

She smiles in response, a little strained upon catching sight of a junior girl behind him. (She wouldn't call it a smile, if she said so herself, it would be merely an upward tug of the lips.) She replies: "I'm waiting for the rain to stop, but it's unlikely."

Emil asks her if she brings an umbrella or raincoat, and she says no. He gives his umbrella, because apparently, his girlfriend has a raincoat and they can share. She accepts it without a word and takes her leave. She seems to blend in the white rain, Emil can't help thinking as he looks at her from behind, maybe her hair will still get wet.

He doesn't notice the fallen flower on the ground.

* * *

There're times that Emil has seen Lyra with her hair dripping water. One was in the evening , the star shone weakly, almost disappeared in the brilliance of city lights, and Lyra was panting from running, long hair wet and seemed darker than normal (if it's possible). All she told him was: "I haven't dried my hair yet."

Emil could imagine the way Lyra had left her house in haste with her hair wet, dripping water into her clothes. Every time he texts her, she always acts like that – one time with bare foot in the middle of winter, one time with mismatched shoes, one time with pajamas. In that particular evening the text was: "My Mom was gone." Emil's mother died of lung cancer, even though he had prepared, he still cried. There was even a text that said: "I will go away for a while." Each time she comes in a hurry, but she doesn't say anything afterwards. Lyra brings with her an air of peace and calmness, as if wanting to say, "there's room here for you and your trouble, a shoulder to rest your world on, and an ear or two nearby to hear your sorrows."

Emil is forever grateful.

This evening, however, they're in the park, Lyra on the swings and Emil near the bench. She texts him this time. Of course she has to wait, but not too long. Emil comes here panting, silver hair dripping wet (and she's reminded of the snow), because she's said: "Maybe I'll disappear when winter comes." He rushes out of the house, ignoring his brother's demand of "Emil, get your hair dried first", because Lyra is the one who ties her hair up with violet orchids in summer, the one who lets her hair down with yellow ones in her hair and eats scones in autumn, it isn't impossible for her to vanish in winter. He can't waste any moment.

She's rocking back and forth on the swings and isn't looking at him as she says – voice like winds and eyes like stars:

"Sorry for bothering you, but it's because I love you."

It's like lifting a burden off her shoulders, all the confusion and calmness she feels whenever she's with him have been released. She's been so afraid of what will change between them, but there's time that nothing should be kept. A part of her brain tells her that she shouldn't have told it so straightforward, but Lyra simply pays it no mind as she turns her gaze to him:

"What's about you? Do you only see me as your friend?"

Emil doesn't say anything – he can't – and Lyra takes his silence rather calmly. She stands up, says goodbye and walks away. He has the feeling that she's crying, because he catches her blinking her eyes a little too fast.

* * *

Lyra still lets her hair down in autumn, but she won't tie it up in summer. There's no other colors in her hair, the orchids are gone. Her hair is long and let loose, and Emil can't see past it to catch a glimpse of her face or her neck. Her eyes are no longer full of trust and lights when she looks at him (here go the star, he thinks, and it's really really sad). If he calls, all she does is raising her head a little – a gesture for him to continue. And if he can't utter anything, it isn't her concern anymore. Or at least, he thinks she's trying. (It reminds him vaguely of the past, when she started coping with her father's never coming back.) She no longer rushes to him when he texts, her hair is dry and smooth and her shoes are right and her clothes are neat. She is so determined that it scares him. It's like she's drifting away from him, from her mother, from everyone, though winter hasn't come. She never tries to get up in time or oversleep, always comes to class on time so that she doesn't have to talk to him and disappears in the crowd the moment classes end. She stops coming to the library, maybe she's found another quiet place for reading and eating scones. He wonders if she can eat them all.

Emil has no intention of looking for her, but he does anyway. In class, he raises his head more than usual just to catch the side of her face. He doesn't go out with that girl anymore and sits alone in their familiar corner in the library, listening to music. He half-hopes she will turn up one day, waking him up and tells him to go home. Emil knows that Lyra likes him more than a friend. She doesn't say, he doesn't ask. There are times he feels like waiting for a confession, and sometimes he doesn't. Emil doesn't trust himself to keep things going on as easily as they are now if he takes a step forward.

(stars are a little too far, and he doesn't have enough courage.)

Autumn doesn't last forever.

Emil waits for Lyra at the bus stop, it's the only way for her to come home now. He kind of regrets leaving his bike at school and running here, but he didn't think much when the decision was suddenly made. He says, voice a bit heavy because of panting:

"My music player was broken when it fell into water months ago. It didn't work anymore. I just pretend to close my eyes and all I hear is the sound of your chewing scones. I really like you… as in like like you. I've been in love with you since before I could remember, but I'm scared of what will happen to our friendship. What if you don't want us to be friends -?"

She interrupts him. "I know." Emil almost smiles at that, she always has her way to surprise him. "Because you run to me with your hair wet, just like I come to you with mismatched shoes, because we both worry that the other will disappear if there's no one to keep us back. I just… I just want to hear you say it yourself. I'm scared too, but I choose to move forth and I'll live with it."

She's smiling with eyes shining, hands reaching to his. Emil takes her hands as if they were glass, as if this feeling was going to disappear with the autumn wind. As he tucks the flower back in her hair, he knows the autumn has finally found its home – it'll not disappear when winter comes, because it has somewhere to belong.

* * *

**a/n: i hope you enjoyed it and if you've read it this far, i'd really appreciate a review. please don't favorite without review. **


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